


Melting Ice

by PsiFie



Category: Pocket Monsters SPECIAL | Pokemon Adventures, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Enemies to Friends, Friendship, Loss of Control, M/M, Panic Attacks, Superheroes, Superpowers, all the way a funky au!, fire vs ice, kinda a worm au, kinda an xmen au, mindwashing, ships not super major part of it, some violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2020-04-07 22:57:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19094737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsiFie/pseuds/PsiFie
Summary: Gold’s a young, up-and-coming superhero by the name of Heartwarmer. His nemesis is Frostbite, a chilly villain with an ominous mask and ice powers who’s ruthless on the battlefield and never speaks. One day, Gold finally manages to take down his rival, but after he takes off Frostbite’s mask, it’s suddenly clear that not all was is what it seemed. One thing leads to another, and now he’s on a long, long road trip with the very same dude he’s been fighting for months.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody! Psifi here again, writing about two good bad boys, I hope you guys enjoy! I suppose I should say that I am very aware of the OTHER preciousmetal superhero au by dainochild, and I absolutely adore it! hi daino if ur reading this your work is amazing wow
> 
> This AU is also a superhero AU but has some pretty major differences! Which you’ll see, if you read it. First, while this is an AU of the Pokemon Special manga, it does not take place in the world of the books—this is a place where many of the dexholders have superpowers, and there are no pokemon. Many more characters from the manga will be joining the fray, and will be tagged as they appear. Much of the concepts that went in to this were inspired by Vex_ation’s concepts over on the pokespe. quotes discord! Thank u to everybody on there who supported me makin’ this fic and made all them Rockin Theories and Ships and Art, you guys keep me going. 
> 
> Now without further ado! read my fanfic please i hope u like it wow

Frostbite comes bursting into the closet, swiftly shutting the door behind him. He takes a second or two to look around the room before striding towards the window at the end of the small room. Little does he know, this was all according to plan. 

_Now._

Gold comes bursting out from a cabinet nearby and sweeps the villain’s feet out from under him. He falls hard, and Gold takes the opportunity to spring on top of his back and press him to the floor, in a hold he’s practiced dozens of times. Ice begins to form under Frostbite’s hands and on the walls, but the heat Gold radiates melts it too fast to be any use in freeing him. Powers neutralized and unable to shake Gold off, Frostbite grows still underneath him. 

And it’s... done. Now, Gold just has to wait until the fighting outside wraps up, then some of the other heroes will help him cuff Frostbite and take the villain into custody. It’s almost bittersweet: he’s fought Frostbite for a few months, getting his ass kicked time and time again while learning the villain’s weakness. As their powers clash, a light condensation sparks up around them on the floor. Frostbite sticks out a finger and starts drawing—no, writing something. 

_help_

Gold narrows his eyes in confusion when Frostbite’s hand starts moving again. _hellp,_ he writes, clearer this time, but still with shaking lettering. “Uh, no? I’m not getting off of you, you’ll just go back to attacking the party. Everyone already has their hands full taking care of your buddies, I can’t be—” 

_maskoff_

_needmaskoff_

“Wh—what? No way, dude, not happening.” Gold laughs in shock. It didn’t make any sense—it was mask custom to keep their identities hidden so that they could live their lives without being bothered. It was speculated that due to the nature of his attacks and his quietness, 

It’s a trap, no doubt. Perhaps some kind of mechanism or clip will release a sleeping agent when it’s removed. Gold’s still theorizing as to the possible traps a person could hide in a mask off how to disable them while Frostbite’s hand has returned to writing on the fogged up floor. The words overlap each other, the letters clumsily and quickly written out. 

_pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseoffneedmaskoffplease_

His comrades mock him for being foolish and gullible, but something about Frostbite’s behavior is uncanny to Gold. He’s spent the better part of six months fighting exclusively this guy—and this isn’t like him. One of the things he can always count on is Frostbite never, ever going to one of the other villains for help. Without another word, he shifts his weight so that his leg is holding down the arm Frosbite was writing with, causing the villain to stiffen underneath him. With his now free hand, Gold reaches up under the fabric around the mask, feeling for a buckle. There’s three clasps of surprising complexity, each unlocked with a little bit of fussing. Grabbing onto the front of the mask, it slides off without much trouble. 

The first thing Gold notices is the red hair—the second, is the pale, pale skin. Third is the horrible, rasping noise—facing the floor, Frostbite’s gasping for breath like they were suffocating under the mask. Alarmed, Gold shifts his own bodyweight off Frostbite’s chest to so he can breathe easier, but the movement allows for Frostbite to easily pushes Gold off. Annoyed, Gold’s about to restrain the villain again when he notices that Frostbite isn’t making any attempt to get away, just sitting up and reaching for his face with shaking hands. He runs them over his own lips, his nose, then over his wild, pale-grey eyes. Frostbite’s hair is long, bright red, and extremely matted with knots and tangles, and he touches it delicately. His hands settle on his own throat, and he looks over at Gold, his breathing starting to calm. He opens his mouth and an odd, rasping hollow sound comes out, causing Frostbite to cough. When he opens his eyes again, his gaze is a tad unfocused. With a hand on his chest, he stares at the floor and gasps some more. Ice rapidly forms and melts around his feet and hands.

Gold has seen these typical signs of loss of control back at Oak’s Academy—years ago, he experienced them himself a few times. But, something about seeing the ever-competent villain deeply rattled shakes him. The loud battle happening just on the other side of the door is beginning to feel extremely distant. Gold’s world is spinning, his sense of purpose twisting on itself. Noticing a bruise on his rival’s face that he put there, Gold feels a confusing guilt. Deep down, he’s filled with the urge to help him, but he has no idea where to even begin. He just sits there, puzzled, as Frostbite removes his jacket off and pulls something out of it, throwing the rest to the side. It falls in an explosion of ice, revealing Frostbite’s wearing a simple black tank-top underneath. Two light grey, snowflake-like markings dot either side of his throat—these are the odd, tattoo-like markings that appear on people who’ve awakened their Abilities. Gold’s surprised to see such a close match to his own markings, but Frostbite doesn’t seem nearly so concerned. Clutching a pen in his fist, he writes on a thin notepad that looks like it’s been soaked in water and battered. Tearing off a page, he gives it to Gold, meeting eyes the hero’s eyes with startling pale silver. 

_need help_

His handwriting’s atrocious—wobbly, and some of his e’s are backwards. Gold’s filled with the urge to make fun of it, but now’s not the time. “Oh—ok. I can help, helping’s what—I—wh-what can I do?” Frostbite nods, throwing a glance back towards the door, before writing more. 

_heat down_. Gold obliges with a stiff smile, and ice starts to form once more around Frostbite’s feet and wrists. _no hurt_ , he writes next, before he forms a long, thin ice shard in his hands. Gold immediately pulls his hands back and prepares for a fight, but Frostbite’s not even looking at him. Instead, the knife plunges into the flesh of the villain’s own forearm. Not for the first time, Gold’s heart leaps into his chest and he races forward, pulling villain’s arms apart and pushing him against the wall. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He snarls.

Frostbite calmly just taps the floor with his foot, and Gold looks down—something’s fallen out onto the floor in a small puddle of blood. It takes a second for it to click as to what this tiny chip has to be.

It’s a tracker. “Dude,” Gold says, feeling his stomach flip with revulsion. “What—what’s going on with you? Why can’t you talk?” Frostbite just shrugs, pulling up his pant leg and diving the knife into his calf. With a small flick, a second tracking device is removed. Not seeming at all concerned about the blood, he scoops it up and places it in his pocket Then, he walks over to the window and opens it, peaking out, eyes scanning city rapidly. Gold dashes up to him and places a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t understand, dude—what’s going on? Why are you like, all different and—” Frostbite huffs in annoyance. 

_dont need help_. The pad is obnoxiously held up in his face again, as Frostbite continues to look out the window. He seems to be calculating the best route to a fire escape a few windows over. Gold’s irritation at the dismissal makes good fuel for heating up the whole room nice and toasty. That gets Frostbite’s attention—he looks over at Gold, annoyed. 

“Yeah, sure, nice try _buddy_. You’re not getting out of this without explaining some things to me. You still—you still did all those _terrible_ things, and you’re gonna pay for it—remember that family you held hostage?” Gold scowls, pushing Frostbite away from the window. The villain looks mostly unperturbed, and it only makes Gold‘s blood boil more. “You nearly scared the life out of that little girl. And Moldbreaker, it took two weeks for him for Mend’s powers to heal his wrists. And that’s not to mention the time you gave me a bruise here, and here, and here—these thing’s just don’t go away, someone has to face—“

Frostbite’s face shows no emotion at the accusations in Gold’s tirades as he pulls out his little notepad again. _tool._ Frostbite points at the word, then at himself. Gold’s mouth moves faster then his brain, and he rattles off a few more of Frostbite’s crimes before it catches up. 

“You’re—you didn’t choose to do any of those attacks, did you. Something was... using you, forcing you, right?” Frostbite nods rapidly, looking out the window again as he absentmindedly rubs his cheek with a gloved hand. Since the mask came off, he’s gained a little color in his face. Narrowing his eyes, Gold sees everything he saw when Frostbite first took off the mask all clearer. Frostbite has large bruises under his eyes, chapped lips, gaunt cheekbones, and nasty, tangled hair. All this, and he doesn’t seem much older then Gold himself. That’s not the face of... of someone who’s been able to take care of themselves.

A shiver running down his spine, he remembers the last close call they had of catching the villain—Red had broken his arm, and when he managed to slip away, Gold was told it could be 2 months before they fought him again. But, instead he showed up kickin’ ass again a week later with his arm in a sling. Gold remembers all theories he studied about Frostbite when trying to figure out how to take down his rival. Frostbite never spoke, never held back, and didn’t appear to be following an agenda or working for money. Nobody knew why he attacked where he did or when he would attack. Not figuring out his agenda, media had put out that he was a terrorist, and that was it. His eerie, ever-smiling mask was impenetrable. Gold had always thought of him as someone smug and heartless. 

But with the mask off, it was clear he was just a kid. A feeling rises in Gold’s chest, similar to the way he felt when he felt compelled to take off Frostbite’s mask. He knows what he wants to do. His hand shakes, and then steadies as he reaches up and pulls the mask off his own face. Frostbite stops dead in his tracks, freezing underneath Gold’s palm. 

“I want to help you. I’m gonna help you,” declares Gold, meeting those silver eyes with his own. “Listen, I’m like, _responsible_ for you. So if you’re in trouble, then we’re in it together.” He smiles, and Frostbite looks straight up-incredulous. “The people after you would never expect it! They’d think you went out that window, like you were planning. After all, what kind of superhero would just team up with his rival like that, huh?!?” He exclaims, a huge grin on his face. Frostbite just stares at him, not even glancing towards the window anymore. He’s lifted up a shaking hand and set it on Gold’s arm. The room’s temperature increases a bit, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Not looking away from Gold’s face, he reaches over to a wall and uses a finger to write in the condensation. 

_ok._

“Huh!?!” Gold tilts his head to the side, his grin breaking a bit. Then, he laughs. “I didn’t expect you to agree so easily, but okay!!! Let’s do this!”

And so, after Frostbite chucks the trackers out the window, they make a plan. Gold insists that they should go to the police as soon as possible, but Frostbite is dead against that. He tries to explain why, but doesn’t quite have the vocabulary for yet. Thusly, their plan’s a bit shorter term: Frostbite’s surprisingly small now that he’s not towering over Gold on a pillar of ice—he fits snugly inside one of the closet’s cabinets. Putting his own mask back on, Gold gives him instructions to meet him at a back entrance of the building once the cost is clear. He says he’ll tell all the heroes that Frostbite escaped through the window, just like he was planning to do before. Then, they can hide out in Gold’s apartment.

As always, entering back into the battle is intense—there’s dude’s superpowers flyin’ everywhere. When it comes to anybody else, Gold’s powers are pretty much only good for spoiling food and making people sweaty, so he relies on his bo staff and a couple other devices crafted by Gimmick for him to help other heroes. Today, Gold manages to help chase one villian out of the building by working with Falkner. After all is said and done, the banquet’s still been ruined, but Red pinned down and captured a villain today with help from Misty. Gold watches as man has his large, claw-like gloves being taken off before being lead off in handcuffs. Seeing Red being congratulated for a job well done makes Gold feel a bit empty inside, but it doesn’t matter that much. 

Some things are more important. 

As he leaves through the back exit, Gold’s pretty sure that Frostbite just ditched him until the redhead crawls out of a dumpster nearby. Gold cackles. Frostbite doesn’t.

The two of them walk to Gold’s car, and Gold notices that Frostbite leaves an icy footstep trail wherever he walks. Pointing that out, Frostbite flinches and starts to panic, so Gold just raises his temperature until the trail nearest to them melts. With a bit more temperature adjusting, they can make it so that Frostbite doesn’t leave a trail at all.

They climb in the car, and Gold drives them to his apartment. The space between them his heavy and awkward, so Gold fills it with lots words. He can’t really tell if Frostbite is listening, but it feels better then the silence. It’s weird, allowing his power to just... be activated. Normally, Gold always turns down the heat he constantly radiates so it doesn’t bother people—Crystal’s keeps complains about the heat when they’re hanging out. But, it doesn’t seem to bother Frostbite at all—then again, he can’t really tell what Frostbite is thinking. He never talks, can barely write, and uses his matted curtain of hair to shield his face from view eighty percent of the time. Needless to say, he’s not easy to read.

After climbing the rickety metal stairs, Frostbite hesitates to enter Gold’s house. It takes leaving the door open and Gold turning on a light inside for him to gingerly enter, walking softly and looking around rather nervously. He just stands there, uselessly, until Gold pushes him onto the living room couch to sit while he microwaves some ramen for them. After their shitty ramen is cooked, Gold returns only to find his beat-up couch covered in a thin sheet of ice and Frostbite looking like he’s trying very hard not to look guilty. The hero groans. “ _Seriously_ , dude? This is gonna soak my couch when it melts, _lame._ ” 

Frostbite stands up looking ready to leave, but Gold forces him sit back down and hands him his ramen. “You at least gotta eat this first, or it’ll go to waste.” Frostbite nods, and stares at it before stabbing it a bunch of times uselessly with the chopsticks. He watches what Gold is doing closely, but can’t seem to pull it off. His hands are shaking again. They never seem to have stopped. 

So Gold gets him a fork, and Frostbite, still struggling a bit, eats his ramen. It’s hard to say what he thinks of it—even with his mask off, Frostbite is nearly impossible to read. He emotes with his body much more than his face.

“Uh, I think you should know. My real name’s Gold, so call me that. ...What’s your name?” Setting his chopsticks on top of the cup, Gold watches the villain—no, the boy— carefully. 

Frostbite stares at him blankly for a few seconds, then nods. From his stooped shoulders, it seems like he’s tired. He pulls out his notepad and writes down an Sl, but that’s as far as he gets. Chewing his lip, he gives up and takes a deep breath. 

“S-s-s—” He shudders uncomfortably, screwing his eyes shut. “Slll. S’ver. Sllll-ver, sliver—“

Gold holds his breath.

“Sssillver. Silver.” He points at himself, and repeats it. “Silver.” The world’s briefest smile flashes across his face as he looks at Gold, before he looks away, seeming a bit embarrassed. Gold grins, and reaches out to shake a cold hand.

“Nice to meet you, Silver.”


	2. Crystal is Badass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold’s just learning who his nemesis really was all this time. The hero doesn’t want to lose the chance to know more about his enemy, and it doesn’t seem like it’s a good idea to let him go on his own.

“...dont want to talk about it. ‘s bad.” Silver looks highly uncomfortable, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes before looking down at the floor with a sigh. His voice is raspy and hollow, and he speaks entirely in whispers. It sounds like it hurts to speak, but Gold’s _got_ to know more, and it seems like the ex-villains not very good at writing. 

“That’s... you gotta explain _something_ , dude. I like—I know that whatever happened to you was bad, but I don’t get like—did you all that because the dude using you had a hostage? What was up with the mask? When’d this all start, anyway?” Gold tries not to let his exasperation show. Taking Frostbite back to his apartment just because he looked like a melted ice pop someone dropped in the dirt was _admittedly hasty_ so he’d like to know absolutely everything as to why Frostbite had been a villain. Eventually, Gold himself is gonna have to justify his choices here to SOMEBODY and he reeeeaaally doesn’t want to be wrong about trusting the villain. Okay, and he’s curious too. He’s been researching his rival for months, and now he can finally get some answers!!! However, Silver is not being very cooperative. 

Sighing again, the redhead bites his chapped lower lip. “...dont know where start.” Looking up, he meets Gold’s eyes as if looking for an answer. Gold just shrugs, mystified. 

“We can... simplify. Let’s simplify! So, who was using you?”

Silver hesitates, thinking, before shaking his head. “dont know.” Gold sighs loudly and dramatically, earning no reaction. 

“Gimme mooooreeeeee. Why the HECK don’t you even know who was using you?”

Silver shifts in the lopsided armchair, and continues, in that quiet, rasping voice. “he always had ice mask on. had info, always, on new hero arrivals and abilities. figured he had to have high connections to heroes. highly respected secret villain—m-m-mastermind. hired mercen—mer-cen-aries. had a big plan—‘s part of it. was very powerful, knew everything about heroes. powers, locations, strategies. had deal with police. had powers himself, the, ice g-golems.” He stutters over words and miffs the pronunciation of lots of things. Gold doesn’t really get why. It’s pretty annoying, given that he just wants to know _everything_ and _now_ so his life can start making sense again. Wait a second.

“You’re saying... those ice golems weren’t you?” Silver shakes his head. “Well, that... that makes sense, actually.” Frostbite had worked with the golems for a long time, but was never seen making one. The theory was that it took specific conditions, but it turns out it’s a totally different power. Huh. “So that’s the dude power—ice mask man. But how exactly did he make you attack the courthouse and everything else?”

“...” Silver goes quiet, pulling up his legs onto the seat and curling up into a ball. “dont know. t-tried not to think about it.” Agitatedly, Gold fiddles with the band of his goggles. It’s clear the redhead’s been through some shit but _god damn_ if that isn’t unspecific. Luckily, Gold’s patience stretches a bit further and just as he’s about to speak again, Silver cuts him off. 

“kept underground for long time. didnt see anybody else, didnt speak. t-trained fr-fre-frequently, couldn’t take off mask. tried to get free but eventually gave up. punished frequently. s’... long time. gave up world outside. stopped eating. stopped... doing anything.”

Gold goes quiet, and he just thinks. ...he can barely imagine it. It makes sense, too much sense—the isolation, Silver’s raw voice, his mysterious attacks. All of a sudden, Gold doesn’t know what to say anymore. Silver continues. “ice mask brought a person. she did s-s-something. it hurt. ‘s her powers.” He bites his lip a little harder. “don’t know what but had to listen to ice mask after that. couldnt not o-obey. not all bad... wasnt scared anymore. or angry, or sad. just nothing. the mask of ice sent me outside after. did missions. caught by golems and returned to ice cage at end, everytime.” Blinking several times, Silver looks up at Gold with emptiness in his eyes. “...‘s a shit reason. just couldn’t not listen to him. didnt hate him either.”

The story pauses there, as Silver rubs at his throat. Gold’s speaking again before he knows it, in a hushed tone. “How... how’d you stop? Why...” Silver nods, staring at nothing. 

“you showed up. think you melted the mask, it refroze but never was the same. still listened to man and did missions but started... thinking. kept fighting, had to, but hurt people less, an’ started to plan escape. picked up pad n pen and hid it in pocket ‘s one part. knew you could restrain, just needed waited for opportunity. it c-came.” He pauses, rubbing at his throat. “m here.”

The sit there in silence. “How... how long did he have you, dude?” Gold can’t keep the wobble out of his voice. 

“didnt know for a long time. heard date, estimated...”

Gold’s breath hitches in his chest, and Silver looks right at him with haunted, haunted eyes. Then, he looks away.

“...years. three or four.”

Gold stretches and stretches for some kind of light he can get out of the situation but there isn’t any. If the story’s true, then that’s... horrible. It sounds like something out of a science fiction movie, but Gold knows that there’s some really, really nasty psychics out there. The story would be a lot less believable if Silver wasn’t sitting there right now, ice slowly forming around his feet as he looks at Gold warily. Increasing the heat he radiates, Gold decides to take the story for what it is. If someone presses, he can say Silver was brainwashed. 

For now, he’s gotta try and cheer up the dude. Talking clearly took a lot out of him, he’s somehow emoting even less then before. “It’s... it’s over now, though.” He smiles, a bit genuinely. “Listen, he’s not gonna get you again—you’re never going back there, not if I can help it!” His grin growing wider, Gold feels a bit more confident, though Silver doesn’t seem to buy it, leaning back against the couch with his arms folded. 

“you are never very careful. you have not won the majority of our fights without significant aid. you would not be able to help it.” Though the room stays toasty, Silver’s words chill Gold’s blood. “could be easily caught again.” Silver’s serious face is rigid as ever as he admits it. “wouldn’t be hard. can’t hide m’ own powers. mask of ice likely knows where we are now.” 

“H-how?” Gold can’t hide the squeak in his voice.

“...know there were at least two trackers. could be more,” Silver nods. “its not safe to stay here.”

That sounds, uh, really bad. Gold sweats in his socks but keeps the smile on his face. “We don’t know that! And listen, listen I can prove there weren’t any more!” Scampering into his bedroom, he rifles through his messy closet. Finding what he was looking for, he dashes back out. “It’s a metal detector! It’s my beach buddy.” Gold grins. “See, we can just run this over your body and then we’ll know if they only stuck the two in you.” Switching the hefty thing on, Gold points it right at Silver’s chest. 

_beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep._

Silver doesn’t look impressed.

“That’s not good!” Gold laughs nervously. Oh god. This is really happening, isn’t it. Silver’s sitting down and already started taking off his shirt oh wow. Okay. Gold runs a hand through his hair and reminds himself of all the life-threatening stuff he’s been through that should’ve freaked him out a lot more then some guy taking off his shirt in his living room an—

“none on my chest,” Confirms Silver. “need you to look at my back.” In a show of how Not On Edge he is, Gold slams his hands on the armrest and leans over to look at the redhead’s back. Tearing his eyes away from three nasty-looking bruises and Silver’s far too countable ribs, he eventually finds a small, neat scar on between the spine and the left shoulder blade. He tells Silver about it, who reflexively reaches for the scar, but can’t touch it. Silver asks him to feel if there’s a noticeable bump there. 

Gold’s fervent wishes are sorrily let down. Though it’s a little hard to tell, there’s definitely a bump that feels about the same size as the trackers Silver tore out earlier. Gold sighs, and Silver meets his eyes with a very serious expression. 

“I reeeaaaaaaallllllly don’t want to do this. We have to do this, right?” Face stony as ever, Silver shakes his head. 

“could do it m’self. not easy, not clean, but could do it. ‘d have to stretch an—” 

“nO!!” Gold exclaims, running his hand through his hair again. “I’ll do it! I’m doing it. I just need, something, sharp, I’mmmmmm going to the kitchen—”

Standing over a sink filled with dirty dishes, Gold feels the temperature around him drop as he calms down. Okay, he’s got this. Hands shaking, he pulls his only clean knife out of his utensil drawer and grabs some tweezers, returning to the living room only to find Silver formed a better scalpel out of ice while he was gone. 

The knife is cold in Gold’s hands as they tremble over the scar. He waffles back and forth until he’s pretty sure Silver is irritated enough to yank the knife out of his hands and do it himself. Once Gold gets the guts to lower the knife, it all happens fast—the knife is in and then out and then the tweezers have pinched the chip tightly and removed it. Gold dashes into the kitchen to toss the tracker directly down the dish disposal to grind it into dust before scrubbing his hands clean. The absurdity of the situation registers with him as he washes them—that’s Frostbite’s blood, swirling down the drain. Frostbite, who’s in his apartment, who was filled with trackers, and has some creep after him who brainwashed him into a crime machine and would do it again, and that same creep has to know that he’s here now. Silver’s standing in the doorway to the living room looking at him, and _they know he’s here_ —Gold has to get him out of here. Right now, soon, or—

“calm doWn.” Silver’s whispery voice cracks a bit. He looks slightly angry. Gold calms down Right That Moment, though his heart really hasn’t stopped racing. “its ok. there’s a little time.” He turns and walks back into the living room, and Gold can see that he froze over the cut with his ice. That won’t work.

Grabbing the band-aids from above the fridge, Gold rushes into the living room and reprimands Silver. “We’re working together, now—since we’re a _team_ , you can’t count on your ice always sticking around.” Silver stares blankly at him, but lets him melt the ice and apply a band-aid to the cut. With one more run of the metal detector, Gold’s prayers are answered the time, and no other chips were jammed in him. As the redhead puts his shirt back on, Gold wishes there was time to do something about Silver’s hair. It looks terrible, and must be uncomfortable besides that. However, Silver’s starkly refused a quick haircut before, though he didn’t provide any reasons why, and with their location pinpointed Silver’s really got to scurry. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Gold throws his jacket and his hat on and grabs the goggles of his suit, but not the full thing. Dumping out Gold’s backpack and putting it on, Silver stares at him. 

“going to hide in the city. probably find a way to somewhere else.”

“And... after that? You gonna get a job or—”

“hide more. steal food, might...” He frowns, rather bitterly. “survive. will definitely survive.”

Gold can’t imagine Silver making it very far leaving that trail of icy footsteps behind. The image Frosbite’s mask hangs mind, and with it comes a strong, wobbling feeling like he’s never felt before. It doesn’t take long for Gold to place it as fear. 

_Shit._ Gold hates feeling afraid. It’s stupid and pointless. He’s afraid of the red-haired dude in his apartment getting captured and brainwashed again and having to face Frostbite on the battlefield once more, knowing what he does now.

But out of awful feeling comes an sudden answer, a perfect solution. Eventually, Silver could learn to control his powers, and might even make new friends! 

“There’s a place I know!” Gold grins, unable to contain his excitement. “It’s called the Dex, it’s a combination research facility an’ school for heroes, and they protect minors. Police or hero organizations won’t get their hands on you.” Gold zips up his jacket and starts packing trail bars into Silver’s backpack, who looks perplexed. “It’s really far away though. But we can make it, definitely!”

Silver looks at Gold for a solid few seconds, then shakes his head. Gold throws up his hands in objection, letting his exasperation show. “Why the heck not?!?”

“done... too much bad. still only do bad. dont deserve protection. ” Silver winces, barely perceptibly, his hand rising to his throat. Gold’s pretty sure that by now, all the talking they’ve done has to have worn his voice out. 

“But... you can’t go to the cops, or the heroes, and you never made any villain bros, right?” 

There’s no response. 

“can hide. ‘s fine.” Gold could hardly hear that. As he stares at Silver, Silver stares at the floor.

“...time to go.” Silver’s hands shake and he walks by Gold and reaches for the doorknob, only to encase the entire thing in several inches of ice as soon as he grabs it. As he tries and tries again to open the door, his attempts to turn the knob get more fervent but his face stays the same, cold and without irritation. Biting his lower lip, Gold slips into the clunky sneakers he’d kicked off by the door and stands next to the villain. 

“I’ll drive you out of the city.” Silver tilts his head slightly, and Gold forces himself to crack another smile. “Just to the outskirts, of the next town over,” He lies. 

The silence is broken only drip-drip of ice melting off the doorknob. Silver’s the first to move, sighing as he folds his arms, staring at the floor. “liar.” With one more shove, he breaks the ice around the doorknob and steps outside. Gold’s heart sinks as he watches an icy trail form down his stairs and down the street—no wait just down to Gold’s car. Which Silver’s now standing next to, and glaring at him, from. The last of the remaining ice melts from the doorknob as Gold dashes back into the house, hiding his relieved grin. 

Five minutes later and just about everything Gold owns in his tiny apartment is thrown into the back of his car. Silver sulks moodily in the passenger seat, leaning on a pillow Gold stuffed between the redhead and the door, saying it was the best place for it. Tossing a blanket over Silver and carefully setting a worn purple monkey sockdoll on the glovebox, Gold slings himself into the front seat and the car comes to life with a hiccuping cough. 

Now that they’re on the move, Silver seems slightly less moody then he was before. As always, he’s stupidly hard to read, but he doesn’t seem bothered as he stares out the window at the city going by. Gold turns on the radio, but Silver flinches at the noise and gives him weird look so he turns it town to be pretty quiet. It’ll be about three hours until they’re out of the reach of Gold’s favorite station and have to switch to CDs. 

Feeling he weight of the silence between them, Gold starts up a conversation that Silver barely participates in. He talks about all kinds of things relating to his life and the people he knows and the food he makes and what he wears and everything else. Eventually, Silver waves at him to get his attention. “talking hurts,” He whispers. “will stop. still listenin’” He adds. “keep talkin’.” 

Pausing, Gold doesn’t doesn’t think anyone’s _ever_ asked for him to keep talking before. He grins, and launches into talking about the other heroes with gusto. Silver, leaning into the pillow, against the car door, barely has his eyes open. In about thirty minutes, he’s passed out. Gold knows that he really should keep his eyes on the road, but he’s never seen Silver’s face look so relaxed before. The sight is... relieving.

As he takes his old monkey doll off the glove box and sets it in Silver’s arms, a warm feeling floods Gold’s heart. As he barrels towards his destination, he knows what he’s doing is _right._

 

—————————

It’s late. Having driven for hours, Gold pulls off the highway and down a few side streets until he’s made his way to a solid spot to park for the night—a turnaround that doesn’t seem to be private property, with a small stream babbling nearby. But while Gold’s walking back to the car after a bathroom break, he squints at the bright glow of headlights coming from slope above the hill they drove down. “Shit,” whispers Gold. “Please, let that be a coincidence.” 

Dashes back to the van, he finds Silver already awake and out of the car, huddling behind it. Of the two of them, he seems to be the less panicked, though his eyes light up slightly upon seeing Gold pass by him to grab his bo staff out of out of the back seat. As Gold straps his goggles to his head, Silver lightly tugs on his sleeve. “talk to them. see what they know and who they are.” Nodding briefly, Gold and gives him a smile and a light pat on the back(that’s returned with a flinch) before he heads out to greet the driver of this mystery car. 

Once he’s blinked away the glare of the headlights, he notices the car’s an old, light blue Honda—one he’s seen before, and been in the back of countless times. “Crys!” He calls out, a huge smile on his face as he approaches the vehicle. God damn if Crys isn’t one of the most dependable people he knows. However, when driver kicks the door shut and his jovial greeting isn’t returned, Gold internally freaks out only a little more. 

“Can it, smiles. And don’t use my real name—I know you helped that villain. He’s with you right now, isn’t he?” Gold’s smile stiffens into cardboard. His first thought is _oh shit she sounds more pissed then that time I shoved her into the bay_ and his second is _oh shit she knows what I’m up to, how does she know what is she, my mom._ Smile still frozen in place, Gold shakes his head. Okay, words. He’s got to say some really persuasive words—it’s time to channel some Ruby.

“N-no idea what you’re talking about. Just out here for some midnight, spontaneous camping, y’know me, always just. Doin’ stuff, when I want, where I want. Whattttt’re you out here, for, Chrys...?” 

The good news is he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Crystal look quite this stupefied before. Bad news: Gold is not Ruby and she has not bought it. Abruptly, wind kicks up her feet with a soft whistling noise as she stares him down. 

“Don’t play dumb, I know when you’re lying—listen, Frostbite is a _psychopath_ , Gold. We’ve seen him injure countless civilians without even hesitating. I don’t know how he... he _got_ to you, but he’s _using_ you! I’ve fought him, you’ve fought him, you KNOW this!” She raises her voice, causing Gold to take a step back, raising his hands. He doesn’t know what to do or say. Hearing what she’s saying, she so genuinely believes it that if Gold didn’t know better he’d be like _oh yeah let’s go beat up villain #84 sis._ He’s still reaching for words as Crystal’s stern expression softens.

“C’mon, Heartwarmer.” She pleads. “I’m sure if you just come with me now, we can get everything to work out, right? It’s okay to make mistakes, but the faster they’re rectified, the less impact they’ll have. This can... end here. C’mon.”

Gold narrows his eyes slightly. See, the issue here is that he _hasn’t_ made any mistakes. “I... I can’t do that, Cr—Aeroblast. Sorry, buddy.” He smiles at her, though she only looks more pained. 

“...Gold? You’re a good hero and a good ally. And you’re... you’re throwing all that away.” With a sigh, she drops her visor on her helmet down and her powers reactivate around her feet and she floats up off the ground. “I don’t think you get how really _serious_ this all is, Gold.” She lectures. The patronizing tone in her voice irritates Gold. 

Is she for _real_? She has to know nothing about Frostbite’s situation and what he be going back to if Gold fails, but here she is, acting like she’s _professor know-it-all_ from _acting like your mom academy._ For a second, he considers trying to convince her, but he knows how bullheaded she can be. It would probably be a lost cause. 

Then again... Crystal’s his friend. It’s worth a shot.

“Frostbite can’t go to the police or government. He’s in a really bad situation,” Gold clarifies, staring her down. He can already tell it’s not having much of an effect. “There’s a snake among the heroes who was forcing him to fight and we’re not sticking around to deal with that, so _deal with it_.” 

Crystal sighs once more, shaking her had. “Suuuurrrre there’s a snake. And sure, he’s in a real bad situation.” She stretches, warming up, and her comfort only serves to make Gold more tense. He’s 80% sure that she’s about to kick his ass. The only way he’s ever been able to win against her before was by sticking his fingers in her nose and that’s probably not going to work this time. 

However, this time the stakes are much higher for Gold, too. And surely, that’s got to change things. 

“Crystal, you know me. I’ll do what I want and I’m doing what’s _right_.” Gold feels the air heat up around him as he grows angrier and grips his bo staff a little tighter. “And _really_ , I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

Eyes narrowing, Crystal doesn’t even dignify that with a response. “...You know me too.” As she spins the dial on her helmet, her visor slides down and obscures her face. “You know that I _excel_ at capture. It’s my specialty.” 

Did she just try to threaten him? _No freakin’ way._ Oh, he’s seen her hug too many orphans for _that_. “I’m not going out without a fight!” The hero yells at her, aiming his staff towards where she floats on the hill above. 

Crystal scoffs. “Yeah sure you are, _benchwarmer._ ” The annoyance is laced thick in her voice as she flicks her wrist. With a swing of Gold’s staff, her first dart is knocked out of the way. But before Gold can regain his position, Crystal kicks off the slope and lands on him, holding him down in the same hold Gold caught Silver in not even a day ago. _Stupid stupid stupid stupid,_ he should’ve put more distance between them, he should’ve taken a more guarded stance, _shoulda shoulda shoulda._ Expertly, Crystal pulls a tranq from her pack and jabs it in his neck. He gets a glimpse of her expression as world shrinks. She looks upset. Gold feels vaguely sad about his cool capable friend feeling upset, and wants to cheer her up.

Dimly, he feels the weight on top of him disappear with a yelp and the air around him get chilly. 

Then everything disappears. 

—————————

When Gold blinks awake, there’s a purple monkey in his lap and a pillow behind his back. “g-gold, gold wake up, how do i stop this thing. gold?” Silver’s sitting at the wheel, eyes wide open and glued to the road in front of them. His knuckles are white as he clutches onto the driving wheel, breaking some of the icicles that hang off of it as he wobbles near the edge of the road while a semi truck passes them. 

A stressful 30 seconds later and they’ve pulled into the shoulder, quickly swapping passenger and driver. Once they’re on the road again, it takes Gold 30 seconds more before he can get his mind around what just happened back there. Releasing a bit of heat to calm his nerves and melt the ice around the pedals, he turns to look at Silver, who’s hunched up the car seat like a gargoyle. “H-how long was I out?” He asks. 

“30 minutes,” responds Silver. “less than 5 to take her down—ambushed her, took her sedatives and knocked her out. 3 to get you in the car, 4 to figure out the basics and get back on the highway,” He admits. “only 15 minutes driving. ‘s stressful.” 

“No shit,” Gold laughs stiffly. “No shit.” Thinking back to the cold, torn way Crystal looked at him, for the first time he feels troubled about what he’s doing. Glancing over at Silver, he sees the ex-villains curled up on the carseat like a gargoyle. His hands are curled tensely into his chest like claws, and they continue to tremble slightly. For someone who could defeat Crys, for someone as cunning and ruthless on the battlefield as Silver, the sight’s rather pathetic. It only solidifies in Gold’s mind more that what he’s doing has to be right. Crystal... Crys will understand one day. She _has_ to. 

As they continue, the drive is silent. Adrenaline finally receding, Gold begins to feels sleepy, but keeps his eyes on the road. The dashed yellow line in the center begins to have almost an alluring rhythm, so he shakes his head wake up again. 

Unusually, Silver’s the first one to speak up. “...benchwarmer?” He asks. 

“Oh, yeah.” Gold snorts, and rolls his eyes. “It’s my nickname among the other juvenile heroes. Surprised you haven’t heard it already—y’know, Heartwarmer, Benchwarmer, because I spend so much time on the sidelines, ha ha. That’s my superpower! Freakin’ useless. Anyway—”

“its not useless.” Silver’s brows are slightly furrowed. Shifting his shoulders, he melts a little further back into his seat.

“Sure you’d think that, duh, but my powers to make things uncomfortably warm do nothing against dudes who can electrocute you and vaporize you or have metal skin or stupid deduction powers.” Gold laughs, but not happily. “I use that weapon—the stick back there—to even be slightly equal with em’. The fact that my powers neutralize your powers, buddy, is the only reason I had the opportunity to come to that stupid city and be a superhero for a while. Listen, your ice powers were _such_ an issue that they needed someone with a fire or heat ability, and whatayaknow here’s this kid at the ‘Dex who can do just that who was just sitting around. ‘S literally how I got the job. If it wasn’t for that, they never would’ve even considered having me as a hero—hell, some people even didn’t think I was ready to go yet. My powers are pretty useless, man.” 

“not useless. n’ not your buddy.” Still curled up, Silver pushes himself around to face the window. It’s a touchy subject and it’s been a long day. Before he knows it, Gold is snapping at the ex-villain. 

“They’re _useless_ , Silver. With gadgets, I might be able to hold my own for 5 minutes but before long I’ll get bowled over by someone’s stupid laser beam or whatever and someone, probably Red, or Crystal, has to come save my ass, time and time again. I focused on fighting you ‘cus I had to! On your strategies and weaknesses and abilities and your combat prowess and—”

“they’RE NOT USELESS.” Rubbing his throat and wincing from what was likely a painful voice crack, Silver looks kinda pissed. It’s the first time Gold’s noticed an emotional reaction out of Silver since he was panicking after his mask was torn off. Gold makes an executive decision to give him the floor. “y-ou’re powers neutralize mine an’ the mask would’ve stayed on if not for that. you save lotsa people and u-use your powers in lots of creative ways all the time an’ surprise people with it m-m-more then you think, and you fight...decent.” He frowns, looking at can on the floor. “a-an you have heat resistance so you c-could f-fight heat villains and st-st-stop f-fires and y-y-y—” clutching his throat again, he squeezes his eye shut. Gold finds himself wanting to pull over to check up on him, but Silver probably wouldn’t appreciate it. In silence, they pass under a few more streetlights. 

“very useful. practical and effective.” Silver whispers, head bowed.

“You’re... you’re right, dude.” He pauses, wondering what to say. Silver made some fair points. “Maybe I... I underestimated myself?” A chuckle escapes Gold’s throat before he even knew it was coming, and then he laughs. “Okay, so my powers were more useful then I thought—no, I _knew_ they’re useful.” He backpedals, gritting his teeth. “Everyone else is just callin’ me benchwarmer and useless ALL the time and I’ve heard it for a while, alright! It’s hard to get that unstuck, fine, you made me admit it. Good going, Silv.” He sighs in mock annoyance. Winning the argument doesn’t seem to cheer up Silver, though, who continues staring out the window in silence.

“...aero b. was right. ‘m using you. go back.”. 

Glancing over, he catches a glimpse of a silver eye regarding him calmly through the curtain of hair covering most his face. It’s gone just as quickly, as Silver sets his head on his knees and looks out the window. “...I’m not gonna do that, dude. When I got sent to fight you, I assumed the whole-ass responsibility and I’m not gonna half-ass it. I’m not stoppin’ ‘til you’re—” He pauses, cutting himself off before he says ‘in jail.’ That’s what he always bragged about before, but not anymore. “‘til you’re... somewhere safe. And maybe somewhere comfortable, too. Besides, who else can keep you from leavin’ an icy snail trail, huh?”

The question isn’t met with an answer for a while, though Silver does meet his eyes. It’s a comfortable silence.When Silver speaks again, he’s so quiet it’s almost impossible to hear over the bump of the road and the whirr of the wheels. “needed help,” he mutters. “‘probly still need help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah I wrote this like, months ago, and am just finishing it now. Why? Cus I really wanted to make a greater buffer before posting more chapters, but got stuck in chapters 3 and 4. Luckily, they’re coming along pretty ok now.
> 
> I have lots of stuff planned out for this fic, and I hope you stick along for the ride. Thanks for reading, and I’d love it if you commented! Chapter 3 should be coming along shortly, it just needs some formatting help before I can publish it.


	3. theres a puppy in this one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I received some really really nice and sweet comments and really appreciated them, and realized “wowza gd I really outta update.” So I did. Read it!!! I worked hard on it!! 
> 
> uhhh in this one theres these boys..... and they like..... have powers???? idk its not that long just read it

Later that night, they pulled into yet another dead end so Gold could get some sleep. Silver insisted on clambering on to the roof of the car to keep watch, and while they argued about it, and Silver insisted that he wouldn’t be able to get any sleep anyway. So, Gold gave up and took his well-earned nap.

In a few hours, the hero wakes up still feeling tired. Light streams through the van’s window, and a soft humming comes from above—it sounds like Silver training his vocal cords. It’s rather peaceful. 

Settles back down to get more rest, Gold’s eyes crack open once more when he hears the humming abruptly cut off. Just on the other side of the window he sees Silver’s face, awake, alert, and upside-down, his hair falling in a sloppy waterfall around him. So, Gold turns over to stare out the other window for a few more minutes of sleep.

Unfortunately he can still see Silver in the rear-view mirror, those uncanny light gray eyes continue to stare right at Gold. _Judging_ him. 

So he’s up, he’s out and he’s getting banana and a candy bar for breakfast. Silver’s leaning on his hands and looking up at clouds, so Gold tilts his head and looks up there too. A speckling of stars is gently disappearing into a pale pink sunrise, with fluffy, light clouds floating in between. 

He doesn’t ask for anything, but Silver accepts a banana when he’s offered one. He bites through the skin, and proceeded to refuse to eat it any other way. He insists it would be _wasteful_ not to eat the skin. 

Okay, okay. Whatever! So _apparently_ everybody knows better than Gold. Sitting in the driver’s seat with a hand on the steering wheel, Gold checks his phone out to see where they are. 

“Alright, I think I got this figured out,” He says, up and standing by the car again to melt the ice Silver formed overnight off the roof. “North is thataway, east thataway and west thataway, and we’re going _there,_ ” He says, pointing in the directions while staring at the map on his phone the whole while. “If we just take a left here a right there, we should be able to get back on track to heading west about 20 minutes.”

“so then that’s east?” Silver points off towards some trees. Gold frowns.

“No, _the west_ , Silver. We were heading west, and from the turns we made, west should be thataway.” Looking at his map once more, he stubbornly points to a sparse patch of pine trees. As he pulls his head up to look at them, his heart plummets. 

“...’s the first time I’ve seen the sun rise in the west,” States Silver.

—————————

They must’ve gotten turned around back when Crystal attacked them. It’s not the world’s greatest start to an impromptu high stakes road trip on the run from their enemies and friends, but heck, they could’ve gone so far east that they sank right into the sea, and they didn’t, so there’s that’s good. At least, Gold will insist that’s good. And maybe they’ll be harder to track, right?

But Silver says that it doesn’t make them much harder to track since Gold still has his phone and needs to lose it. Apparently, people can be tracked through their phones—which was something that Gold had always heard, but never thought would be very relevant, because he was _a hero,_ and wouldn’t ever be in a situation where the cops or heroes or whatever would want to track him. But sometimes life has treacherous and twisterous turns, and now Gold needs to abandon his phone and pick up a physical map at the next rest stop.

It’s not easy to give up his phone. Yeah, it’s got a bunch of fab high scores in all the gambling games he kicks butt at, and yeah, it’s got a stunning collection of pictures of the local foods from everywhere he’s visited, and *yeah*, it’s got recordings from every single D.J. Mary concert he’s been to, but and even though losing all that will hurt, it’s not the kicker. 

His phone’s got a billion contacts to everyone he knows. Pressing a hand into his forehead, Gold scrolls through the list, thinking about each of them. His mom, the professors, most of his classmates, his friends... even Crystal. He pauses over her profile, over the picture of her grinning with cheese dust on her face from their last movie night, and thinks about calling for a second chance to explain everything. He asks Silver what he thinks about that.

“...the more you tell them, the more likely they catch me.” Silver spits, staring out the window and into the parking lot. He’s right, but point still makes Gold feel bitter. He wants to call everyone and explain everything, but with his friends being heroes and heroes being the very people who are after them, he really can’t. Crystal was his closest partner-in-stopping crime, and she’s already been assigned to them. While he’s also hero, Red would totally be super down with traveling with them and he’d absolutely kick ass to have on the team, but when Red and Gold are together, their collective impulse control ceases to be and the result is that Crystal and Green have lectured them more times then they can count. Besides the best bro ever, there’s, Falkner, who’s a solid dude, but also is a cop and paragon of responsibility. Bugsy’s is a nerd who’d much rather be studying, while Whitney hated him from the start, though the feeling is mutual. There’s also Lt. Surge, but he’s an ex-villain and Gold would never ask him to risk his parole for some kid he’s never met. Because he would *absolutely* help, so Gold’s not going to ask him to. 

If he were to try and call his friends and allies, it would only worry them more, and then, knowing them, they’ll come after him. To be fair, Gold would do the same if any of them were in a situation, but right now neither of them need a bunch of well-intentioned heroes coming after them. Crystal’s already after them, and she’s more then a handful. 

Silver waits all the while Gold messes with his phone, staring out the window, aloof. “you could leave me instead of it,” he states, dryly, scratching at his mussed-up hair. _Leave him instead of everyone else_ , the hero thinks. But Gold smiles at Silver, eyes crinkling—like hell he’s gonna step down from this challenge _just_ when he was starting to get to know his rival. He reaches over and ruffles Silver’s hair, which results in frost and dandruff coating his hand and Silver promptly shoving himself against to the car door to get himself as far from the hero as possible. 

So, Gold ditches his phone behind an information sign at the rest stop. Yes, it was $50 and had a shit camera. But... it was his, goddammit. With a sniff, he breathes a silent prayer. Maybe one day... he can come back for it. Maybe.

“...you are very dramatic.” It’s much more of a statement than an insult and it makes Gold bark a laugh. Silver seems confused as to why Gold’s laughing, which just makes him wheeze into the basket of fried chicken they’re splitting. 

And then, they’re back on the road. 

—————————

 

It’s a waste of time. _Gold’s_ wasting time. 

Silver looks around the shelves of the convenience store, agitated. The more time they spend on the road, the less time they’re on the run, the more time Aeroblast and whoever else is coming for them have to catch up to them. The clerk working here stares at him, and Silver dodges his gaze, fiddling with the simple black facemask Gold bought earlier. Silver was very reluctant to get it, but the hero said that they both had to have something to obscure their identities if they got into a situation. Luckily, it fits snugly and warmly against his face, and can be removed very, very quickly and easily.

“I’m gettin’ this. What do you want, Silv?” Gold’s holding something shiny in his hand, having finally chosen it from the rack of other, similarly shiny objects. Silver evaluates the question, then the rows of... things. He only has vague, now slightly painful memories of what these are and what their differences are. It’s...candy. Candy that’s chewy and sweet and salty. A treat, but nothing substantial enough to survive with.

Then, it is unnecessary. Silver does not need candy. It is not worth even worth the time he took to figure out what it is. Still, Gold is looking at him expectantly. He needs to say something. 

“let’s go.” 

Gold frowns, for whatever reason. It makes Silver’s skin crawl, so he abruptly turns around and begins striding towards the door. He’s stopped by a man entering walking a small, thickly furred animal on a leash, which looks at the ex-villain with beady eyes. The hero standing behind him gasps dramatically as he catches sight of it. 

“Look Silv, a _pomeranian!_ ” Gold coos, then approaches the man with an open smile. “What’s their name, can we pet them?” In return, the wavy-haired man grins and kneels down to pick up the dog, his hands sinking into the thick fur. 

“A’ course! That’s mah girl Vee. She’s a real sweety, she’s nev’r hurt nobody. Sof’ as a down pillow, too.” He extends the dog to Gold, who runs his hand down the dog’s back. It quietly ruffs, and it’s tongue lolls out of it’s head. The hero _beams_. 

“C’mon, Silver, why don’t you give petting it a try?”

Wasting. Time. Silver’s eyes dart over to the cashier, who blinks and looks away. If Silver listens to Gold’s demands, it’s likely that they can get out here slightly, _slightly_ faster. He reaches out to touch the animal, and Gold stops him _again_ —saying he won’t be able to feel the fur if Silver’s got his gloves on. 

Silver stares at the hero, blankly, then at the dog. Tiny, beady black eyes stare back at him. Sighing deeply, Silver decides against just storming out of the shitty store and fumbles off his glove, flexing his shaking fingers before lightly setting his hand on on the little dog’s back. 

...it’s soft. Silky soft, like his sister’s hair once was but even softer. The sensation is foreign, but not unwelcome. 

The dog _urfs_ in confusion at his touch—Silver knows his hands must be very cold. It sticks out a tiny pink tongue and licks his finger, before wiggling a little, then settling back down, relaxing. 

Silver realizes he’s been holding his breath, and lets it go as he strokes the dog once more. _So soft._ Silver glances over at Gold—surprisingly, the hero’s not smiling smugly. Instead he’s just staring at Silver’s hand. Silver looks at it as well. It looks how it always does. 

Normal.

The dog wiggles impatiently. “Oh! She’s about done, Imma set her right down, boys.” The man place his little dog down neatly on her feet. It runs in a circle and yips, looking up at the three.

Gold’s smiling warmly, and the man is smiling back. “Thank you!” An appropriate phrase of appreciation. Silver had long forgotten it. He should repeat.

“...thank you.” His voice may be soft, but he is very sincere. The dog owner seems to understand and grins at him, before walking over to a nearby shelf eying some baked goods., Gold finally goes to checkout, impulsively throwing some light brown square on the counter to his purchase. As their transaction is wrapping up, the bell rings once again as another customer enters the store. 

This time it’s a girl—long hair pulled back into twin dark blue pigtails. She freezes, and looks at Gold with an expression Silver can’t place. It seems important. Urgently, Silver tugs on Gold’s sleeve to get his attention. 

Looking up from the change in his hand, Gold stares at the girl. “Crys?” The word hangs in the air and the girl’s eyes grow wider.

It clicks. Silver’s moving before he’s thinking—the facemask is over his mouth, and the ice knife forms quickly and easily in Silver’s hand as he grabs the dog owner by the shoulder and steps behind him. Within seconds, the blade’s edge is pressed against the man’s neck and the dog is trapped at the end of an aisle behind a wall of ice, yapping up at it’s master as it dashes, frenzied, back and forth, with it’s leash trailing behind it. Silver meets Aeroblast’s gaze as she glares at him, his threat hanging wordlessly in the air. 

Gold’s raised his hands into the like he’s the one being threatened. Quirking an eyebrow at him, Silver lightly shoves the man he’s taken hostage in the back to encourage him forward, towards a different exit then the one Crystal entered in. With a look that could kill, the hero backs out and into the parking lot. His goggles now strapped over his eyes, Gold holds the door open for and Silver and his hostage to move out. 

Crystal looks ready to strike at any second, but Silver gives her no opportunities. He keeps the man in front of him, and the knife against his throat. Clearly, this frustrates her, as Crystal looks between the two of them, raising her voice to a shout. “Are you _okay_ with this, Heartwarmer? Is this who you are now? _Is this what you do_?”

“NO! I mean—” Gold fidgets as he looks between his fellow hero and the hostage. “ _No..._ ” He sounds desperate, but fortunately, he’s not moving to stop Silver in anyway. The car gets a little closer. 

“Listen, sir—sir with the dog? Stay calm, okay? I _will_ be arresting these two, if not now, then VERY shortly,” she insists with an absolutely unnecessary amount of edge. Her threatening and serious demeanor seems to do very little to ease the concerns of Silver’s hostage, who squirms slightly. 

“T-that’s very nice and all Ms. Lady hero but acCK—” Silver presses his knife a little bit into the man’s neck as a reminder. After all, Hostages talking can give them a dangerous advantage. It is to be avoided. Gold stares at Silver, his mouth hanging open. The villain answers the look of shock with a glare. *What?*

“D-don’t _do_ that. Don’t—” But they’re already standing by the car. Forming walls of ice behind the tires so Crystal can’t puncture them, Silver gestures at the driver’s seat for Gold to get in. The hero glances between Silver, the hostage, and the car seat. “Listen, I’m *sorry.*” Gold says to their hostage, in a pleading tone. The man just shrugs slightly, looking baffled. Sighing, Gold climbs into the car and revs the engine. Moving to the other side of the car, Silver shoves his hostage forward and away as he quickly swings the door next to him open and leaps in, the smell of burning rubber filling the air as Gold pulls out of the parking lot. Lowering his window, Silver looks behind them as they make a mad dash for the exit.

Crystal’s in hot pursuit. Silver forms several sheets of sharp icicles, then a smooth blanket of flat, invisible ice behind them to stop her. She begins slowing down as she sees him drop the traps, but still hits them hard—one tire pops, and she spins on the ice, out of control and into a ditch. As they speed up to get on the highway, she’s climbed out of her car. And she’s glaring at them.

Silver’s yanked back into the car as Gold takes a sharp right into another lane. Thoughtlessly, Silver rolls his window back up, and the car is cast into silence. 

He needs to say something to Gold. But he doesn’t know what. Even though he opens his mouth, words won’t come to him.

Silver feels tired.

 

—————————

 

A tense 5 minutes later, and Gold’s pretty sure that they’ve lost her. Man, quick thinking on Frostbite’s part, but also... brutal. Just fuckin’ brutal.

He can’t keep acting like that—they’ll start to have cops and local heroes looking out for them too and the search for them will get that much more worse if they’re not just _on the run_ , but actually _dangerous_. Gold’s eyebrow twitches, and he looks over at Silver slouching next to him, staring blankly at purple sock monkey that’s fallen off the dashboard and into his lap when the car made that sharp turn speeding out of the truck stop. The sight’s kinda adorable. 

No—he’s getting distracted. How does one even start this conversation? 

Well, there’s only one option: putting his best foot forward. “Silv—Silver. You can’t just... _do_ stuff like that.” Silver’s looking at him now, but there’s no response. Gold bites his lip. “Stuff like taking hostages. You can’t do that,” he repeats. 

Silver takes a couple seconds to think about that. He picks up the monkey and looks at it, then all of a sudden his hands scrabble at the edges of the facemask in a flurryof movement as he yanks it off. He lets out a long exhale, and sinks a little further into the carseat, before folding the mask and placing it in the glovebox. Gold repeats himself. “...You can’t do that again, Silver.”

“yes i can.” Silver stares right at him. It’s super uncomfortable, cus Gold’s gotta keep his eyes on the highway, but he can feel the other dude still staring. 

“No, _we_ can’t. I don’t take hostages, Silv—I save people!” No reaction. *Dammit.* “Listen, if YOU are with ME then you gotta be _with_ me, like, we gotta be on the same level here. And I act to protect people, to uphold justice and truth!” Gold clenches a fist in the air nobly, but Silver just snorts.

“truth.” Silver says, simply. 

“AND justice.” Gold corrects. 

“you said _truth._ then what happened to ‘taking me a little ways out of the city?” Silver stares at him, unflinchingly.

“Well I mean. I coulda. But you haven’t exactly stopped me from keepin on going.”

“...you lied. you’re a liar. What if you‘re lying again?” 

“Ok yeah I lied. But I had your best interest at heart, so, _there_.” He sticks his tongue out at Silver, who looks positively repulsed at the action.

“aeroblast has your best interest at heart, too.” That... that stings. And its a stupid good point, but like, whatever. 

“Eat my shorts, Silvy. I’m the best you’re gonna get and you know it.”

They lapse into silence after that. Surprisingly, Silver’s next to speak.

“the dog and the man were not hurt. the cashier was not hurt, and you are not hurt. it was the safest thing to do,” Silver states curtly, as he takes off one glove to pet the ratty plush monkey. His hands shake, and a layer of ice forms over Aibo’s cloth head.

Gold frowns because that’s not true. “But what if Crys had attacked us? Would you have slit his throat? *Would you have killed him?*”

Silver doesn’t respond this time—he just runs his knuckles over the Aibo’s fuzzy ear, again and again. Gold slams his foot on the gas and pulls around some tiny Prius that was going way too slow—some stupid local plate. They drive. There’s still no answer. Then, after another minute, Gold barely hears the mumbled response over the ac.

“don’t know.” 

Gold glances at Silver again, who steadily meets his eyes. “wouldnt kill him. i don’t... i havent. wouldnt.” 

“But you would’ve hurt him.” Silver hesitates, then nods. “Some dude, just a totally normal, innocent dude—no, a NICE dude, a dude who let us pet his DOG for cryin’ our loud. The chance of hurting him—of him getting involved in our fight—that’s not worth the risk, Silv. We might be safer, but he’s not. Usin’ a dude like that is just—it’s bad. No two ways about it.”

Silver says nothing—instead, he stares blankly at his bare hand as it rests on plush. Blinking quickly, Gold glues his eyes back on the road. 

They drive in silence. Gold thinks, and reigns his temper in. 

“...it’s okay.” Gold admits. “I forgive you.” He hears a sharp intake of breath next to him—out of the corner of his eye, he sees Silver staring at him, wide-eyed, before the ex-villain glances away, looking out the window. “But you _gotta_ try to be more good.”

“...cant be good.” Silver doesn’t say anything more or explain, even when given some more freakin’ space. He just sits there and stares out the window, while Gold, rapidly running out of patience, quietly starts to seethe. Gold’s anger builds and builds—seriously, does logic just—not work on this guy? Anybody can be good if they chose to. That’s not a debate, that’s just fact. It’s fact! He KNOWS it’s true!

“ _Bullshit._ You know you can be good—anybody can be good, Silv!” Gold sneers at him.

It’s not just that Silver looks angry or sad or anything, his face is hollow, empty, and unreadable. Tilting his head slightly, stares blankly into the space in front him of as he speaks. “that’s not r-realistic. idiot.”

Gold scoffs, looking out the window and cutting off a truck as he moves into the fast lane. “The HELL its not realistic. The hell. It’s super realistic.” He can’t help but glance back over at Silver, only to see his words have had no effect. “The HELL!” He exclaims again, bashing his fist into the steering wheel.

With that, they finally fall into uncomfortable silence. Gold makes a few attempts to break it up, but Silver’s clearly just ignoring him now. Anything Gold says hangs in the air like an old fart and he soon wishes he had said nothing. Hours pass, leaving Gold’s mind to churn. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. But he’s not _wrong._ He’s right, anybody can be good, anybody. Even Frostbite. 

A pit falls into his stomach as Gold spends a second questioning that. Why is he so convinced about this, anyway? Silver’s spent the previous 6 months tormenting Gold personally and currently looks like nothing more then mop of exhaustion and resentment. Gold’s bad feeling aches a little more as he realizes Silver has never once said that he’d like to be less... villain-y, just that he needed to get away. 

...then again. There’s the look Silver got when he was disagreeing with Gold over whether or not he was a useless hero. There’s the nervousness in his body language every time his powers don’t do exactly what he wants—which seems to be most the time. 

So, maybe he hasn’t chosen to be a good guy. But, he’s barely had time to make a choice at *  
 _all._ He didn’t even have a choice until very recently.

...he probably doesn’t think he has a choice now. 

Gold sums up all his maturity and lifts his chin. He’s gonna give Silver the opportunity to be a good guy, a bad guy, or just _some guy_ , if it’s the last thing he does. Staring dead ahead at the road in front of him, he watches the sun is sink lower in the sky. Soon, they pull over for dinner and sleep.

Silver gets out of the car before it’s even as it’s rolling to a stop and makes a beeline for the woods. Throwing the car into park, Gold gets out and slams his door shut behind himself to yell at the redhead stalking away. 

“If you WANDER OFF get captured, I won’t know it! That’s not SAFE Silv, splitting up’s exactly what you told _me_ not to do!” Silver freezes immediately, his hands clenched into fists as sharp blades of ice fork off of them and stab into open air, while his breath fogs the air around him. Gold tosses the door to the trunk open with a little more force that what was probably necessary, to begin pulling out their supplies for cooking dinner. He keeping an eye on the other boy as he does so. Once he sees the redhead turn around and walk back, his stomach drops. 

Silver’s cheeks are a ruddy red, his face is scrunched up uncomfortably. “ _Fine,_ ” he spits, venomously, before crawling into the backseat of the car and shoving the various garbage thrown between him and the window. Peaking through while holding the cooler, he sees the redhead’s back shake once, twice. 

It seems like he’s crying. Probably.

Gold just stands around outside the car, uselessly. He’s _gotta_ help, how’s he gonna help, the feeling eats at that hero. Silver clearly needs privacy right, but he’s gotta help. Maybe... Silver could use some food to get his energy back, yeah. Gold always likes to eat a ton of food when he’s upset, so it might help. Maybe. Hopefully. He can dream, right?

The fire’s started going strong, and Silver’s still not out of the car yet. Gold’s gone ahead and shaped the patties and wrapped the potatoes in foil. Something inside him feels... sore. He’s certain he’s failed the ex-villain, though he doesn’t know how and he doesn’t know how to have _not_ to have failed him. Putting the potatoes over the fire, he hears the door slam shut and sees Silver comes out of the van, puffy-eyed and rubbing his throat. Gold attempts to make small talk as he sits down by the fire, but the redhead refuses to say anything back. Something clicks. 

Silver never, ever says when he’s in pain. After all, why would he? 

Gold reaches into his bag and pulls out the cough drops he keeps, offering one to Silver. Looking at it confused, Silver just sticks it in his pocket. Gold has to clarify that it’s for his throat, but that only causes Silver to pull it out and eat it without unwrapping it. Gold’s about to makes him spit it out when he swallows the whole thing, making a pained expression as it goes down. It takes a bit of convincing and explaining, but eventually, Gold gets Silver to use a cough drop the proper way. After a few minutes, he looks surprised. 

“this works well,” Silver admits, his voice slightly quieter and raspy again. Gold takes the potatoes off the fire, placing the beef patties he made onto the gril. Skillfully, he splits the potatoes open and places a pad of butter in each, before passing one to Silver, who bites right through the tinfoil and into the skin.

“Woah, woah! That’s hot and—” Silver glares at him like he’s the weird one. Oh. It seems neither of them are even slightly harmed by heat. Sighing, he informs Silver that tinfoil is, in fact, _not_ intended to be eaten, who in return gives him a strong look of doubt, but once again complies. 

After they’ve finished their potatoes, the patties are done cooking, so Gold throws together the burgers and adds plenty of ketchup to Silver’s. As he bites into his own, he notices Silver peel back the bun and just eat the meat of the hamburger, like the bun was a wrapper. Giggling maniacally, Gold tells him that this one is meant to be eaten with the outside covering and Silver looks so annoyed it’s hilarious. “It’s not funny.” Silver quietly objects, but Gold can’t wipe the curve of a smile off his own face.

“C’mon, it’s at least _kinda_ funny.” Staring blankly at him, Silver takes another bite of his hamburger. Gold’s grin only grows wider as he sees Silver’s eyes widen. The ex-villain proceeds to devour the burger—it’s disappeared in a matter of seconds. Gold keeps laughing until he sees Silver starting to eye his own burg, so he downs it in a few bites himself. Once he sees how disappointed Silver looks, he can’t help but cackling again. Soon, Silver’s expression shifts into something more neutral, then a small smile. “We can have hamburgers tomorrow too, buddy. That’s the nice thing about cookin’ for yourself—you can eat whatever you want, whenever!” 

“...there shouldn’t be a tomorrow.” Silver’s not smiling any more. Gold stops laughing, immediately. Shit. It’s what he said, isn’t it—or maybe it’s that he’s not strong enough to keep Silver safe. “You don’t... deserve being stuck with a criminal.” Or it’s... neither of those things? “You have a future in heroics, having fun and... eating food with friends.” He sighs, lightly. 

“I appreciate how far you’ve taken me. I’m sure I have a good chances looking after myself this far away from the city.” He goes quiet, looking at the ground. 

“Don’t go.” Gold’s mouth moves before his brain does and oh wow Silver’s looking at him... intensely. He doesn’t seem to have taken that well, so Gold trips over himself backpedaling. “I-I mean, you can go if you really want to. Or need to. Shit. Listen, listen,” Why is this so _hard._ “If you really want to go, if you really don’t want to stick with me an’ go to the ‘dex then you don’t gotta. I don’t... I’m not gonna be that jerk with the mask 2.0 and make you do things you don’t want to If you think you’d be safer, or _happier_ on your own, then that’s... your choice to make, Silver.” Now the ex-villains tilting his head it him, listening carefully. Time to not screw things up. “But, PERSONALLY I don’t want you to go. I think that the dex can help you and protect you and—”

“they won’t take me.” Silver tilts his head down, gazing into the fire. “I’m a villain, Gold. I do horrible things, and I can’t do anything else. I’m not made for... living in house, o-or anything.” But that’s not true. It’s _can’t_ be true. 

“Dude, everybody knows powers got a crazy boost in intensity bout 15 years ago—this generation’s abilities way, way surpass the lasts. Do you you’re really the first time someone’s tried to use some kid’s abilities for nasty shit? One of m’ bros back there is this kid named Ruby and HIS shitty dad tried to force him to be his sidekick and really didn’t wanna, so with the help of this other sidekick chick, HE ran away to the ‘dex. It’s like a thing, people, do.” Gold snorts. “The ‘dex protects kids with powers and teaches them how to use em’, plain and simple. There’s been all kinds of lawsuits and fights over it, but whatyaknow, dismantling the *  
 _only_ institution that studies and trains the most volatile kids how to use an not use their powers would cause more problems then it’d solve.” 

“If you went there, you’d be _fine_ , Silver.” The villain sitting across from him looks up from the fire and directly at Gold. Silver sighs lightly, clearly deep in thought. 

“Are you sure?”

“Oh YEAH I’m sure, I went there.” Silver‘s mouth hangs opens slightly. “Annnnnd I’m probably gonna have to go back for a few months after all this is done with. So, you don’t gotta worry about nothing, ‘cus I’ll be there right with you.” Gold grins.

“But _why._ ” Silver presses, sounding downright upset. “You can control your powers. You don’t need—containing. Or training!” 

Gold’s grin turns into a bit of a grimace. Oh great, time to talk about his least favorite subject. “I haven’t always had control. There were a few bad months when I was around 12 where I just couldn’t get them to do what I wanted. There were... accidents. I have the hang of it now, but...” With a sigh, he pulls out a bag of marshmallows and skewers one. “It’s still never easy. I make a lot of people around me uncomfortably hot, and stuff. And always melt my candy bars.” Passing a skewer to Silver and stabbing some marshmallows onto a second, he nods. “You just never notice because you’ve got weird temperature abilities, just like me.”

Silver sits there, deep in thought as his marshmallow browns, imitating how Gold holds his skewer. “But... why go back.” 

“Back when I was sent on my mission, there were some people who believed I never should’ve gone—thought that I needed a tighter control on my powers, an’ uh.” His face scrunches up. “Thought I wasn’t responsible enough. Well, screw them!!!” His exclamation causes Silver to flinch back a bit, pulling his marshmallow away from the fire. Gold reaches over and pulls it back down so it’s hovering right over the flame. “Look how freakin’ responsible I am, I can drive a car and share an _apartment_ and look after you. But still, once we get back I’ll probably stay there for a while, having to appease those bastards, at least.” He sniffs indignantly. “Besides, I really don’t have a reason stay be at the city of you ain’t there. The other heroes have all the villains there handled. You know Red has like seven superpowers in one??? SO not fair. Anyway, the city’ll be plenty safe.”

Silver closes his mouth and mulls it over. He still looks doubtful. “...is the place really safe?”

“Hella safe. I know I literally just bitched about some of the professors, but even were only jerks cus’ they _cared_ about me. I’ve made... so, so many friends there. It’s a good place, bro.” Silver wipes at his eyes once more, his face neutral as he stares at the fire. He opens his mouth, and then slowly closes it again. His marshmallow starts to burn, so Gold just lifts it slightly off the heat. 

“...I’m a bad person, Gold. I only know how to do bad things.” His voice is almost quieter than it was when he first started talking. “I don’t care about how I hurt other people as long as I’m safe.” It’s stated as though it were fact. Gold frowns, because it’s not.

“You’re not a bad guy. You’ve already spent a stupid amount of time worrying over me and my future ‘cus I’m helping you when I’m know I’m gonna be _fine._ Of course you care about _you_ being safe—because you being safe means other people are safe, since you’re not being **forced** to hurt them.” Gold lets his voice raise a little to get his point across, and Silver flinches once more, head bowed. 

“Okay.” The redhead’s voice cracks slightly, and he won’t meet Gold’s eyes. But Gold smiles anyway, and deep down, he feels better. With a sigh, he downs the rest of his cola and clasps his hands together. 

“But seriously, if we’re gonna do this you’re gonna try harder to be, uh, not-a-villain! Which means no more hostages, and other stuff. We can talk about all that in the morning thou cus I’m BEAT!” Silver looks up at him, eyes wide, and silently nods. Gold grins back at him. “Silv, put out the fire when you’re done roastin’ marshmallows, ‘kay! If you’re gonna sleep tonight, lean shotgun seat down onto my legs, I’ll snooze right through it.” Standing up, Gold stretches before heading back to the car and sweeping chip bags, soda bottles, an umbrella, and all the other accumulated crap they’ve tossed back there off the back seat and onto the floor. Grabbing pillow #1 and curling up with Aibo on his chest, he flops down for the night. Shifting to get more comfortable in the cramped space, Gold closes his eyes and tries his best to sweep all his worries to the back of his mind so he’ll get something other then stress dreams tonight. He needs good sleep.

A few hours later, he sees the car open quietly in the dark, and two silver eyes glance at him before the figure drops the passenger seat down, curling up in it.

Gold sleeps a little sounder after that.

—————————

Finally, _finally,_ the backup is here. Crystal scowls as she climbs into the front of their car to pick up driving through the night. They seem pretty dense, and they’re kinda dorks, but they’ll do. The capable one his a _horrific_ flirt and while the other is terribly sweet, but doesn’t really seem made of hero material. With everyone back in the city occupied with fighting it’s many villains, they’re the best she could get on such short notice—hopefully, the backup she actually requested will be here soon. 

Eyes darting to her review mirror, she sees them sleeping in the back, leaning comfortably against each other. Downing a swig of caffeine, she presses her foot into the gas pedal a little harder. 

It’s only a matter of time. She _will_ capture them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yea that was it. thanks for reading! see you next time space cowboy


End file.
